


A Rainy Sunday

by alynwa



Series: Sugar and Spies Tales [35]
Category: The Man From U.N.C.L.E.
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-07
Updated: 2013-04-07
Packaged: 2017-12-07 18:28:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,553
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/751645
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alynwa/pseuds/alynwa





	A Rainy Sunday

Napoleon could feel someone staring at him as he slowly came to consciousness. He kept his eyes closed and began using his other senses to gather information. _Comfortable, clean, smells like…Oh, right, this is my bedroom_. He cracked open one eye and looked into the face of Leona Nicole, his daughter he was raising with Illya. Breaking into a smile, he said, “Good morning.”

 

Leona, now four, had been taught from the moment she came to live with her Papa and Daddy never to jump on their beds when they were asleep but to either stand a foot or two away quietly where they could see her when they woke up or, if she needed them, to call their names. She had not had a bad dream or anything like that; she wanted to tell Daddy something. “Good morning, Daddy!” she replied enthusiastically and proceeded to climb up onto his bed. She kissed his face and then sat cross – legged next to him. She was still in her footie pajamas and her hair hung down her back in two thick braids. “You don’t have to put cloes on today, Daddy,” she informed him with her _I’m telling you something important_ look on her face.

 

“Really?” Napoleon propped his head up on his hand, which put him almost eye – level with the child. “And, why don’t I have to put on _clothes_?” he asked.

 

“ _Clothes_ ,” she repeated, earning a bigger smile from Daddy. “Because, it’s raining outside and Papa said we can’t go to the zoo. He told me to come tell you”

 

“Raining, huh,” he answered as he rolled away from her and got up on the opposite side of the bed. He opened his drapes and, sure enough, it was pouring outside to the point that the tops of the nearby buildings were shrouded in clouds and fog. He glanced at the clock on his night stand. _10:30?_

 

“Leona, did Papa give you your breakfast?”

 

The little girl burst out laughing and wrapped herself in the sheets and comforter. She stopped and looked at them in wonder. “This smells like you, Daddy!” she declared, “Papa gave me frosted flakes; they’re grrrrrrEAT!” She laughed at her imitation of Tony the Tiger. “He said you would think he couldn’t make breakfast.”

 

He pulled on his bathrobe and stepped into his slippers. “So, Papa gave you dry cornflakes right out of the box? That doesn’t sound too good to me.” He chuckled at the sight of the toddler’s eyes opening in surprise as she rose to her Papa’s defense.

 

“No, he didn’t! We ate cereal in a bowl with milk and banana!”

 

“Oh, my mistake. Why don’t you go see what Papa is doing while I go to the bathroom?”

 

Illya was reading one of his journals in the living room. He could hear bits and pieces of Napoleon and Leona’s conversation and had grinned when Leona had outlined what she was given for breakfast. He had actually eaten three bowls of cereal, three bananas and drunk two cups of coffee. He figured they were set until lunchtime.

 

Though he had feigned disappointment at the weather spoiling their original plans, he was relieved because he really wanted to relax at home. He and Napoleon had returned from an affair that had them dodging alligators and cottonmouths in the bayous of Louisiana while pursuing a madman who was bound and determined to drown the city of New Orleans by detonating bombs at all the levees. They had wanted to capture him, but he had chosen to blow himself up rather than be taken. They had arrived back in New York early Friday evening and picked up Leona Nicole Saturday afternoon. They did not have to report back to work until Tuesday.

 

Napoleon entered the living room carrying a large mug of coffee. Leona followed him and squeezed herself into the little space Illya had left when he sat in the easy chair. “Papa, what are we going to do today?” The blond shrugged his shoulders and looked at his partner.

 

Illya’s partner had sat on the couch and sipped his coffee. He knew if they didn’t think of something, she would get antsy and bored and that wouldn’t bode well for any of them. “I know,” he said when inspiration hit him, “Let’s make Toll House cookies!”

 

Leona clapped her hands gleefully. “Cookies, yay! Let’s do that!”

 

Illya frowned in confusion. “What kind of flavor is ‘toll house?’”

 

Napoleon smiled and replied, “Toll House is an inn in Massachusetts where the chocolate chip cookie was invented in 1937. The recipe is on every bag of Nestle’s Semi – sweet Chocolate Chips; which reminds me: I have to go to the store to buy some.”

 

The Russian had perked up at the mention of chocolate. “Leona and I anxiously await your return. Buy more milk, too.”

 

MFUMFUMFUMFUMFUMFU

 

“Now, Leona, I need you to stir this,” Napoleon said as he pushed a bowl containing flour, baking soda and salt on the counter in front of her and handed her a large wooden spoon. Before he could say anything more, Leona stuck the spoon in the bowl and fiercely began to stir, scattering the mixture all over the counter, floor, her face and her Daddy.

 

Her bottom lip started to quiver as she looked at her Daddy’s shocked expression. “I’m sorry!” she cried, “I didn’t mean to do it! Please don’t be mad, Daddy!”

 

“I’m not mad, Leona Nicole, don’t cry,” he said softly as he picked her up and hugged her. “I was startled, that’s all. Shhh, it’s okay.” He rubbed her back and put her back down on her stool. Just then, Illya came into the kitchen to see what was happening.

 

Looking at the two flour – dusted faces before him, he grinned and asked, “Do either of you two clowns know where my daughter and my partner are?” The response he got was flour flung at him by Napoleon who then looked at his daughter and smiled.

 

“The family that clowns together stays together. Isn’t that right, Leona?”

 

The toddler smiled back and said, “Yes, Daddy” before getting off the stool and running to hug her other father and rubbing her face into his sweatpants. “Now you look like us, Papa!” she stated cheerfully.

 

“I imagine I do,” the Russian mused. “I have a proposal: I will help clean up this mess if you two will complete your mission by making these cookies and then sharing them with me. Is it a deal?”

 

Napoleon leaned back on the counter and folded his arms. “I don’t know,” he opined, “I went out in the rain to buy the chocolate chips and milk while you stayed dry in the house and Leona is trying very hard to be a good little sous chef while you read in the living room. Daughter Mine, does Papa deserve to have some of our cookies?”

 

Both men had to hide their mirth when Leona tapped her left index finger against her cheek while she thought. _Where on earth did she learn to do that?,_ Napoleon thought as he glanced at Illya who, knowing what his partner was thinking, just shrugged his answer. _Not from me_.

 

Leona looked from one man to the other and then said, “Daddy, we love Papa, right?”

 

Her Daddy hunkered down to look her in the face. “Yes, we do,” he answered solemnly, wondering where this was going.

 

The little girl placed her hands on either side of her Daddy’s face. “Then, we have to give Papa cookies because it’s a good thing to do. That’s what Miss Davis tells us in school; if you love someone, you want them to be happy and Papa likes to eat so, if we give him cookies, he will be happy and love us more.”

 

Napoleon felt his heart melt listening to Leona’s words and seeing the earnest look on her face. “Miss Davis is very wise,” he whispered as he gathered her up, stood and hugged her close. “Okay, Papa, it’s a deal.”

 

MFUMFUMFUMFUMFUMFUMFU

 

The kitchen was cleaned and then, father and daughter proceeded to make cookie dough but, this time, Daddy showed Leona how he wanted the stirring to be done before he began beating the other ingredients. Leona watched as her Daddy blended everything together. Once that was done, he gave her a tablespoon and let her drop spoonfuls of cookie dough onto the baking sheet.

 

When the cookies were baked and cooled, Leona very proudly called her Papa into the kitchen. They each sat at the kitchen table with a glass of milk at their places and a platter full of chocolate chip cookies in the middle of the table. Leona picked up a cookie and offered it to Papa. “Do you like it, Papa?” she asked as he took a bite.

 

The Russian smiled as he chewed the treat. “It is delicious,” he assured her, “You and Daddy did an excellent job.”

 

“Next time, Papa, you and I can make something together and then, we can share it with Daddy.”

 

“I would like that, Leona Nicole.”

 

Napoleon snorted and looked at his partner. “I only have one ground rule for that, Partner Mine.”

 

Illya waved his hand and sighed, “I know, I know. No soufflés.”


End file.
